Never His
by sapphyreangel
Summary: She had loved her best friend since she was fourteen years old and he never knew. But it never mattered because she was never his to begin with.


So I should be focusing on TBQ but this little piece kept rolling around in my brain until I just had to sit down and write it before it drove me mad. Anyway, now that it's done and uploaded, I'll be going back to TBQ (I hope). In the meantime, enjoy this short piece till then! :p

* * *

She loved him.

She, Hermione Jean Granger, had loved her best friend since she was fourteen years old and he never realised despite their years of friendship and closeness.

When she was eleven and about to be Sorted, the Sorting Hat had favoured Ravenclaw for her. _You have an insatiable thirst for knowledge and Ravenclaw will respect that brainpower of yours and the opportunity to amass more knowledge than you can imagine. The House of the Brave offers you none of that even though you have courage and inner strength aplenty._ But having spent the last few years being known as a bookworm with no friends, Hermione had stubbornly insisted on Gryffindor. She had intelligence, Gryffindor would offer her the friendships and popularity she craved as opposed to becoming lost in the mass of quiet, bookish Ravenclaws. Now on hindsight maybe the Hat had been right in saying she was fitted for the house of ravens, she was no brave Gryffindor – at least not in the matters of the heart but she digressed.

She had liked him when he was still scrawny with broken, taped up glasses and his badly patched, oversized clothes. He treated her like a real person; he listened to her whenever she needed to rant or just needed a kind face and a listening ear, he winked conspiratorially at her whenever they did their homework and Ron started complaining of boredom and hunger and whenever she did well in class, he was the first to give a congratulatory smile and thumbs up. Harry didn't care that she used to be buck-toothed or that her hair was unmanageable on most days, he didn't care that she liked books over Quidditch or making friends and he didn't judge her for wanting to be the best in class, although he did try to temper her eagerness and enthusiasm in class so as not to alienate their classmates. But most of all, he made her feel special and wanted and she loved the kind, unassuming boy all the more for it.

Her best friend had just been as awkward as she had been on going about making friends but in their later years at Hogwarts, he had blossomed. He had a list of good friends as long as his arm and an even larger list of acquaintances that grew longer by the day.

Puberty, or maybe fifth year, had been the catalyst for him. He had shot up over a foot, he grew out the messy mop of hair and put on a healthy amount of weight and muscle. Personality-wise, he stopped sulking over the unwanted attention and instead went about making nice with almost everyone – although Malfoy and Parkinson still riled him up and the less said about Snape and Dumbledore, the better.

By sixth year, his close circle of friends had gone from just two to fifteen. Ron had not been pleased, especially when Theodore Nott and Anthony Goldstein began hanging out with Harry, even spending evenings in the Gryffindor Common Room as they slowly but surely edged him out of the role of Harry's best male friend.

Inwardly she was thankful that despite six other girls joining Harry's group, she remained his closest confidante. He told her about what Sirius and Remus were teaching him, what news he got from his allies outside of school and sometimes he spoke of his desolate childhood and despaired over his much hated fame, his eyes sad and tired instead of his usual cheerful but determined façade. The worst part of being his best friend? Knowing there was another girl Harry fancied or was going out with and the way Harry's eyes lit up as he gushed about his then-current girlfriend was like a knife that kept twisting in her belly, jealousy and misery tugging for equal space in her heart.

Occasionally she still thought about his two prominent exes, Ginny Weasley and Lisa Turpin. The relationship with Ginny was doomed to fail. She wanted the glory and recognition that being Harry's girlfriend, and subsequently wife, would bring her but Harry believed in working for such recognition – it was why he abhorred his nickname of Boy-who-lived but after the war he had accepted, albeit with badly disguised grace, the ridiculous appellation of the Man Who Won. Harry and Ginny made a striking couple – he with his vibrant eyes and confident posture and her innocent look and vividly red hair; Hermione had heard the Professors and shopkeepers murmur nostalgically about seeing James and Lily Potter all over again. The couple did connect over Quidditch and their brushes with Voldemort but Harry struggled to connect with Ginny's desire of being in the limelight. They lasted six months (as far as teenage dating went, it was a decent amount of time) before Harry dumped her.

Sixth year was hectic. The war had risen like a crescendo but inside Hogwarts, Harry trained hard and when he wasn't training, he was among his friends and classmates, spreading the word and trying to convert people to his side. Susan Bones and Padma Patil both asked Harry out but were turned down. She and Harry often spent weekends outside, hunting horcruxes and making nice with his allies – Moody, Remus and Kingsley could only do so much recruiting without Harry making an appearance. They shared a tent and they shared the double bed in the tent because the bunk beds reminded them too much of the last World Cup and the fact that Ron had walked out of their lives, their already fragile friendship now shattered beyond repair.

The first term of their seventh year left her in near perpetual state of bliss. Harry had been named Head Boy and there wasn't a Head Girl (a huge disappointment but it had been left empty out of respect for Hannah Abbott, that year's Head Girl, who had been killed three days before the school year began). But that meant the suite that the Head Boy and Girl shared was solely Harry's and he had invited Hermione to stay in the Head Girl's room, citing his need for her assistance. More than once, they had fallen asleep on her bed where they spent nights planning their next move in the war.

Suspecting that Harry harboured feelings for her but had chosen to keep his attention on staying alive and protecting everyone else, Hermione kept her peace. She was sure that once the war was over, Harry would confess or she would confess first if he was not sure of her feelings and they would begin the next chapter of their relationship.

It was much to her surprise and dismay when Harry brought Lisa Turpin to Christmas dinner at Grimmauld Place, Sirius giving her a warm smile and handshake and Lisa returning a book to Remus.

It turned out that Lisa and Harry had been dating for a little over five months by then and Hermione had been blinded by her own daydreaming and too used to Harry's large social circle to notice that the now official couple had been seeing each other.

Hermione had agonized for weeks. The Ravenclaw brunette was comely enough with her cornflower blue eyes and pleasing face but Harry had prettier girls whom he had dated and was constantly surrounded by. In a duel, Hermione far outstripped her. They were almost equals in intelligence and book smarts, Hermione's brilliant mind a mite superior to the Ravenclaw's. Harry trusted Hermione infinitely more than virtually anyone else, save Sirius. So what made Lisa more appealing to Harry than she did?

The answer had come from Harry's newly minted male best friend. "He will never love you the way you love him."

Hermione had been startled to find Anthony Goldstein to catch her spying on one of Harry and Lisa's Hogsmeade dates. The half-blood wizard had slouched down in the seat next to her as they peered through the sheer curtains into the next section of the café the couple had chosen for their date.

"She's just another phase. Everyone knows it won't last, I'm just making sure he won't get hurt by her."

Anthony had looked at her almost pityingly. Hermione disdained his pity, Harry would have set the other boy straight if he knew of this.

"Hermione," he spoke slowly as though speaking to a child and she had bristled at that, "Harry doesn't love you that way. He will only ever see you as his best friend, his sister in all but blood. He may or may not marry Lisa but the way he looks at her now? He will never look at you in that manner."

Hermione had snorted at his words but he had been right. For the longest time, Harry and Lisa's relationship had been going strong and it had progressed to the point that people began whispering and betting on when Harry would seek Lisa's hand in marriage. They were already seventeen and Harry had more than enough money to support half a dozen middle class families, much less he and a wife. Their only impediment, everyone whispered, was Harry having to vanquish Voldemort before making an honest witch out of Lisa.

But war and loss had a funny way of twisting priorities and mind-sets. Once Voldemort was obliterated and Sirius' funeral was over, Harry had retreated with Remus, Tonks and his godson, Teddy. Six weeks later, he returned to the public eye – a little more weary than before but cutting a strong and steady figure in a society that had lost both their Light and Dark leaders.

Hermione and Andromeda had moved into Grimmauld Place along with the Lupins and most nights, Hermione would watch Harry pour over the dozens of folders and paperwork that was his Potter and Black inheritance as well as the mountain of letters from other people contacting him. For his sake, Hermione had taken the burden of answering the letters of his well-wishers, dividing letters into stacks of importance – only passing those from Kingsley, his allies and his close friends straight to Harry without reading them. More than once, she had been tempted to throw the letters Lisa sent into the fire but she dutifully stacked them on top of Kingsley's letters and left it to Harry.

It took a further two weeks before Harry finally broke up with Lisa. Hermione had sat at the top of the stairs, just out of sight, as Harry gently broke up with the girl he used to love. Lisa's choked sobs and words trickled intermittently up the stairs but Hermione was secretly too relieved to feel sorry for her fellow female's heartbreak.

She and Harry took to studying during their free time, preferring to take their NEWTs at the Ministry rather than to do over their Seventh year. In September, Harry joined the Wizengamot as the 31st Lord Potter and proxy of the Black seat (a witch or wizard could only hold one official seat at any time). Hermione celebrated her nineteenth birthday with a new job and a quiet dinner with her parents and Harry.

That was nearly three years ago. Harry had insisted that his first Christmas as the Potter lord would not be in a dismal place like Grimmauld. Despite Kreacher and Dobby's best efforts, the place remained dark and dreary so Harry had moved into Potter Hall, a large dwelling that dated back to the 17th century. He installed the Lupins and Andromeda in one of the family apartments before inviting Hermione to pick a room to call her own. She had chosen one a few doors down from the master suite, knowing that Harry would be able to call on her if he needed a friendly ear.

This was to be her time, she had decided. Harry had enough time to get over his last relationship, get his affairs and estate in order and it was relatively peaceful in the wizarding world. Yesterday had been the third anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort, today would be a good time for a fresh start.

Breakfast was a noisy affair. Teddy, at three and a half, would happily babble and whine for anyone's attention as he made a bigger mess of his breakfast. Andromeda would tut at the young boy before whisking out her wand to Vanish his mess as she continued to supervise the playful child. Remus had the night shift at the Potter breeding farms – his additional strength and his wolfish pheromones meant that most of the creatures tended to behave in his presence, making his job a little easier than the regular farmhand but still no less taxing; so he would be in bed until lunch. Little Honor, the latest addition to the Lupins, fussed and whimpered until her mother picked her up and gently rocked her.

Harry was usually the last to join the table. He was always joking that it was the Marauder blood in him that caused him to sneak around at night and oversleep the next morning. Remus once mentioned that Harry tended to brood at night and usually joined him at the breeding farms, working away at his internal frustrations. Knowing Harry's character, Hermione respected his need for privacy and left him alone about his habit.

Harry never came in for breakfast or lunch that day but just as they were finished with their noon meal, Kreacher popped in and announced that Harry requested their presence in the family lounge.

With a satisfying meal behind them and the promise of an afternoon with Harry, Hermione had merrily skipped ahead with Teddy, the rest of their group strolling at a quick pace to keep up.

There was twin shouts of 'Harry!' and 'Unca Harry!' before there was a stunned silence from her and Teddy causing Remus to wrench open the other half of the large oak doors, only to reveal Harry and Luna side by side on the couch at the far end of the room.

For a moment the group stared in stupefaction before Luna shifted, the ring on her hand glittering in the sunlight. Tonks squealed excitedly as their group joined the couple.

"I asked Luna to marry last night. We'll be married in July." Harry confirmed the unspoken question with a broad, somewhat dazed smile.

This was even worse than the first Christmas with Lisa. Back then Hermione had the excuse of being busy with the war plans and schoolwork. Now she lived three doors down from Harry, had almost every breakfast and dinner with Harry and spent nearly every weekend with Harry – how had she missed this?

Thankfully Andromeda had voiced the same question, allowing Hermione to gather her wits and thoughts.

"She was always there, through the war and after. I think my heart knew I loved her before the rest of me did."

Harry's eyes were warm and brimming with affection as he kissed Luna. The fragile strings of hope that held Hermione's heart snapped at that moment but it went unnoticed as Andromeda and Nymphadora cooed and chatted with the recently engaged couple.

Two months later, her misery was made complete. Luna and Harry had insisted she be one of the bridesmaids – Luna because Hermione had been a good friend and mentor at Hogwarts; Harry, for their long years of friendship. She was standing at the altar with the man she loved but she wasn't the one he had eyes for, she wasn't his bride.

"My fellow magical brethren, today we have gathered to witness the joining of Harry James Potter and Luna Esther Lovegood…"

If this was not torture, Hermione didn't know what was. Watching the love of her life bind himself in magical matrimony to a woman that was not her. She wanted to scream, she wanted to push Luna aside and take her place as Mrs. Harry Potter but instead she affected a happiness she did not feel as she watched Harry and Luna exchange their vows.

"My dear Luna, my light of the world, the moon to my sun. You are everything I could wish. I wished for a heart of gold, and you showed me yours. I wished for quiet strength, and you lent me yours. I wished for happiness, and I found it in you. And I thank magic every day that I found love in those pretty blue eyes of yours. Today I pledge myself to you now and forever, to be solely yours."

A bright light that sealed his vow and Harry bent down to kiss his new bride.

She could feel the liquid of the heartbroken begin to roll down her cheeks but she kept a smile on her face as she clapped politely. She had lost. She never stood a chance from the beginning but she had been too blind to see. Harry would never love her the way she wanted him to.

In years to come, she would see his children – some with Luna's brilliant blue eyes, others with their father's intense green eyes. But they would never call her 'mama'. That role now rested with the blonde woman in Harry's arms.

She would never hear her parents call Harry their son; her dreams of Christmas dinners and summer holidays with her parents and Harry would forever remain as just wishful thinking. She would never hold a boy or girl with her frizzy hair and Harry's brilliant green eyes. She would never wake up in the master suite with Harry's arms around her waist. But most of all, she would never ever hear Harry declare her to be his love, his one and only because she was never his to begin with.


End file.
